I hope everyone has had a wonderful Christmas.
As it turned out, my dad didn't come visit me last night as expected, which was disappointing. Travis felt so terrible about it, he ran out and bought me a pair of Christmas pajamas. I also had my mom, brother and cousin come visit me. I was expecting company last night (actually, I had been looking forward to it all day), and he didn't come, so I still wanted to see someone. Even though we'd planned on having Christmas celebrations with my mom and Thomas today (which we still did), they didn't mind dropping by last night to visit in order to try and "fix" the situation. It was kind of pathetic...Especially considering the fact that Travis tried four or five times to get my dad to come up here, even telling him, "It would REALLY go a long way if you came up here tonight for even fifteen or twenty minutes." Very disappointing.
I had a better day today though. My mom and Thomas came for lunch, and we exchanged gifts, and they got the gift of learning the baby's name. Since we still haven't celebrated Christmas with Travis's family yet, I still can't quite make it public, but you'll all know in a day or so! We're broke and didn't have the chance to finish Christmas shopping before I ended up in here, so that's everyone's gift for now. So far everyone seems to love it.
I got Kate Gosselin's book Multiple Blessings, and was reading it a little while ago. I always watch the show, and have from the very beginning, but I didn't know the exact details surrounding the pregnancy and birth of the six babies. I saw in the book that at a point earlier than I'm at now, all six of the babies weighed more on ultrasound than mine does. It was depressing. I've been so good about keeping my spirits high, but seeing that a group of sextuplets, which you would assume might have some growth issues or simply lack the room to grow at the same rate of a singleton, are actually BIGGER than my singleton... It's a scary reality. I try not to think about percentiles, or where he should be at this point, compared to where he is. I even have a deal with my perinatologist that he's not to mention percentiles with me, whether good or bad, because they only make me worry, and I end up for hours researching online what's considered healthy. However, when I see something like that, it doesn't take confusing percentiles or statistics to know that he's really really tiny... Like REALLY tiny.
It's hard not to wonder what kind of fight he might have to endure after he's born. If the Gosselin six spent months in NICU after they were born, and there were scary times where the tiniest of the babies were literally fighting for their lives, and yet they were still bigger than my little guy... My mind wanders to what lies ahead for him. I know he'll survive. That isn't the issue. I think people don't understand that when I get overwhelmed or scared. The most reassuring thing (well-intentioned) people can say is, "Well, I have peace that he'll survive..." Ok. I do too. That isn't the issue. What mother wants their child to suffer? What mother wants to see their tiny child, only hours or days or weeks old, struggling for whisps of air on a ventilator? I can't think of any. In my moments of sadness, I'm not scared about his death, because I trust that won't happen. I'm just sad for what he might have to endure in order to survive. I feel terrible for him, and I'm scared for him, and I'm scared for us because I know having babies in NICU is a strain and a very stressful, emotional time.
I know Jon and Kate's story had an ideally happy outcome... It just scares me because I can't help but compare my son to their kids. If their kids struggled to breathe and fight off infection, and they were born at X weight, then how much more will my son struggle if he's born at less than that?
This isn't a very merry Christmas post, and I'm sorry for that. I was so positive the last few days... I guess I'm just feeling a little down about things right now. Food and gifts and visits and fudge don't take away the prevailing thought that's floated in and out of my mind all day. We have another check-up ultrasound tomorrow morning. Since I've been in the hospital, they've done two a week, and tomorrow is the next one in line. It scares me because I realize that they might discover that he hasn't gained as much weight as he once was gaining. That could mean the placenta is failing him, which is something Dr. Atkinson has told us from day one would eventually happen. I just sort of pushed it to the back of my mind. Travis keeps reassuring me, "We knew that the circumstances upon which he is to be delivered might be stressful, or scary, or a downright emergency. Nothing's changed in my heart about how the outcome will be. We have been prepared for the frightening stress of his arrival from the first time we met Dr. A." And I know he's right. But saying something like, "He'll have to be delivered early, because eventually with IUGR, his environment inside becomes more unhealthy than his environment outside..." is one thing. But UNDERSTANDING it, and letting the reality of it sink in is something else.
And I struggle with feeling like I've failed him somehow. How do you deal as a mother when you know that you can't even provide a healthy environment for your child when he's inside the womb? Sometimes I'm fine with it, and I'm on top of my emotions, and I realize that it isn't my fault, and nothing is wrong with ME, and other times I get frustrated and angry with my own body (which I realize I have no control over, but it still makes me so mad sometimes).
Wow I'm negative tonight. Perhaps I should post this another day. But then that wouldn't be honest, and I'm trying to remain as dedicated to honesty in this blog as possible. I'm hoping that perhaps in writing this, someone who was less than understanding of the situation, or someone who is also going through the same situation might read my thoughts and feel enlightened or encouraged.
I do hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas, and that you all stay safe. Please remember the true reason behind all of the gift-giving and song singing and binge-eating. Luke 2:1-20
God bless,
Kathleen and Travis
1 comment:
Dear Angel,
You have not failed your son, nor will you fail him. I have watched you fight and struggle to do what they tell you is best for him, day in and day out, since the moment you knew you were pregnant. You almost died early on in this pregnancy, and many women would have used that as an excuse to end this child's life. You did not.
He is small, but you've seen the images on the ultrasound. He is continuing to develop, he sucks his tiny thumb, he kicks at the monitors that he hates so much, he turns and you have that little shot of him "waving" with his tiny hand open.
You have fantastic medical care, and you have hundreds of people praying for you and Travis and your son.
They told you he was a blighted ovum. He wasn't.
They told you he was an unattached gestational sack. He wasn't.
I believe, with all my heart, that God has a special purpose for him, and that he has the best Mom and Dad in the world. You're already a better mother than I ever was.
Don't let the stories of other people get you down. You weren't taking fertility drugs or trying to feed six fetuses. You are further along, and while Little One is little, he is a perfect little guy for his age right now, except for his tummy size.
Put away the books that frighten you. Stick with Ashlie. She understands. Remember when she first wrote and told you that her friend's baby had IUGR and that every check up they gave her friend bad news, but her friend carried the baby almost full term, and delivered a beauty, healthy child.
Hang in there with faith.
By the way, your gift was my favorite of all gifts, and it seems to be your brother's favorite. He kept talking about it on the ride home, and he put it in a safe place to keep forever.
I love you.
Mom
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